


From Lily, With Love (and Guns)

by dinosaursarntreal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, This is nuts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaursarntreal/pseuds/dinosaursarntreal
Summary: Lily Potter, nee Evans, is an intelligent woman. And intelligent women must do what needs to be done to protect their family.A tale in which Lily Evans defeats the Dark Lord on her own terms, and what life brings to her new family.Otherwise known as: Lily Evan's just fucking shoots Voldemort with a glock and calls it a night.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blaming my dear friend Alice for this.

_Chapter One **-**_

**_October 31st, 1981_ **

Halloween was a dull affair this year, though Lily and James had made an effort to make it as festive as possible. Her home glittered with carved pumpkins and charmed candles that didn't spread flame or burn out, and the smell of cinnamon, apple, and pumpkin from James' day of baking still hung in their cottage. Godric's Hallow was a small and quiet town, much like their home, and easy to settle into. However, with the state of the wizarding world, it was even quieter. Halloween had been an active night for the last few years for The Dark Lord and his cronies, terrorizing muggles and wizards alike and leaving people to stay inside their homes in hiding.

Both Lily and James especially, as the birth of their son Harry fulfilled a prophecy that Albus Dumbledore had stressed could very well be true, and even if it wasn't, Lord Voldemort thought it was. To protect her small family, they had taken up new lodgings in Godric's Hallow, kept secret and away from anyone else they knew and loved. It was difficult, for her husband James especially.

Lily had taken to the quiet just fine. She enjoyed the company of her young son and her husband, but she could see the isolation begin to take a toll on James. He had grown up surrounded and coddled and loved, and with the passing of his parents not more than a few months ago, and no contact with his second family of friends, he was clearly going stir crazy. As evidenced by his newfound hobbies. Baking, tinkering with muggle things, obsessive cleaning and acting as if their son was not only a baby, but a fully grown adult that he could "hang out" with. He'd crafted a number of games for the lot of them (no doubt to entertain himself more than anything), and it was sweet if not a bit dangerous for a one year old toddler.

As it was Halloween, they had stayed inside, not even risking heading to their garden. Their lights were kept low, and soft music played through the charmed muggle radio to fill their home with noise as if there was company. Early in the evening, James and Lily had hidden sweets in plain view for Harry to find, testing his skill on their feet and chuckling when he fell on his bottom, not crying because the soft marzipan candies sweetened the fall both literally and figuratively. He would be plumper by the end of the night, after all the sweet candies and pies and treats that James had made. Not that Lily minded, of course. There was nothing cuter than a baby with chubby cheeks and thighs, and if he was as active as his father was in childhood, he'd no doubt burn all his baby fat off by the time he was old enough to fly.

Which wasn't straight out of the womb, despite James insisting he'd be fine.

(He had tried, and Harry had fallen, only to be caught by a quick cushioning charm and James spending the night sleeping on the sofa.)

Now the sun had set, and the autumn coolness made the fire feel even cozier. Their home was pleasantly warm, and their bellies full of treats as opposed to proper food. Quiet, small celebration aside, the day and evening had been wonderful with just the three of them. It was almost impossible to get off the sofa, where Lily was curled up against James' side with his arms around her, and Harry seated on her lap. James had charmed a small marzipan owl to hoot and fly around him, and Harry reminded them of a cat as he tried to bat and paw and grab at the little candied bird floating around.

"We should put him to bed," Lily hummed, running her fingers through Harry's thick, soft hair. So much like James' already, and she was terribly fond of it. Pictures they had of James from when he was just a baby made her sure that their son would grow up to be a spitting image of him. But her eyes were what everyone commented on. Such a wonderful shade of green, and with James' darker skin and dark hair, it stood out so beautifully. Oh, they made a good one. Every day that went by, Lily impressed herself with what she had grown inside of her. "Would you like to sleep, my handsome little man?" She cooed at him, and received a yawn but a while of protest.

"No," his little voice came, but she could see his eyes drooping.

James reached around her, poking at Harry's chubby cheek gently. "It's time for bed, it's nearly ten." He waggled his finger against Harry's chin, and their toddler whacked at his hand before laughing when James whined in overexaggerated pain, holding his hand to his chest. "Oh, you're a killer, aren't ya, Harry? I'm wounded, oh, oh he's got me," he bemoaned, slumping over the arm of the chair and causing Harry's little face to contort into worry. He was too young to understand it was a joke, until James shot back up and grinned at their son. "Noo," Harry grinned, toothy, and reached out for him. "Dad, dad, dad. No nigh."

"Yes, _nigh,_ mummy and daddy need private time, little man."

“James!” Lily laughed, swatting at his leg, only to have Harry mimic the action and swat at her own, laughing along with her. Monkey see, monkey do, she supposed. Wrapping her arms around him, Lily pulled her son to her chest and peppered him with kisses. “He doesn’t need to hear this nonsense, do you, Harry?” She could feel him squirm, hear his giggles, as she bombarded him with little smooches all over his face and hair.

“He wont remember,” James waved it off, and gently nudged Lily aside so he could stand and help both her and Harry off the sofa. “I’ll tidy up if you want to put him down, love,” he said and leaned down to press a soft kiss against her temple, red hair tickling his nose and causing a soft sneeze. Gross creature, Lily thought, but she couldn’t help but lean up and press a kiss in response against his stubbly jaw. Fatherhood and isolation had caused him to grow it, and Lily thought he was quite handsome with a bit of a beard on his chin.

“Deal,” she replied, and held Harry tight against her chest. “Lets go lay down, hmm?” She asked him, and she swore that Harry rolled his eyes in response. “I don’t need your attitude.” Lily tickled his belly, getting a series of little giggles as they started to ascend the stairs. With just the three of them, the house was a perfect size. Two bedrooms, one fashioned into a gold and cream nursery with dark cherry wood furniture and toys all around. Though they hadn’t seen Sirius, Remus and Peter for months now, they had spoiled Harry absolutely rotten. Even Marlene and Mary, Lily’s friends from school and bridesmaids in her wedding, and gifted them with a boatload of gifts and toys and clothes for their son.

As Lily looked around Harry’s room, she sighed in sadness. Harry must have sensed it, blinking up at her with his big green eyes. “Mumma?” He asked, and Lily kissed the top of his head and went to the window bench where a stuffed toy bear sat with his friends. Harry took it instantly, squishing his face against the soft fur. “Your aunt Marlene got that for you,” Lily explained. “When you were in my belly… I wish she was still here, Harry. She absolutely loved you…” Lily had named Marlene Harry’s godmother, and she truly had adored him.

“We always used to talk, how our kids would grow up and be the best of friends. She was pregnant, you know.” There was sadness in her voice, still. Mourning her friend and the baby and the life they would never get to have. “No one else but me and Mary knew, not even your dad, so don’t tell, okay?” She poked his nose, and Harry didn’t react. He had no idea what she was talking about, but speaking freely of her friends and their own secrets that weren’t James’ to hear was therapeutic. Maybe Harry would remember bits of these conversations they had when he was older, and Lily hoped that maybe he would. “Sirius would have been a good father, had he have known. It’s best he didn’t, of course. No sense in telling him now, since I think he’s been kissing your Uncle Remus on the side when he and Marlene were together,” the young redheaded woman smiled, eyes still sad.

“Or maybe it was Marlene on the side, because I’m quite certain they’ve been kissing a lot longer than your dad and I have been, if you know what I mean,” she booped Harry on the nose again, with a smile. “Of course you don’t, you’re much too young. And if I have my way, you won’t be kissing anyone for a long time.”

Downstairs, Lily heard a loud thud that caused her and the toddler to startle, and Lily blinked. “What on earth is he doing down there?” She asked, and Harry didn’t react to her question. Of course he didn’t, James always made a racket when he was cleaning up. The product of a spoiled boy who hardly had to lift a finger to clean. Thank Merlin for magic. Not that cleaning charms were James’ specialty. More often he just transfigured his way to cleanliness, the clever git.

The noise downstairs was muffled, the thick floors hiding the thumps and thwacks and groans from her husband. It wasn’t much to be concerned about, and Harry was used to noise while he slept what with their laughter or the music both she and James were fond of listening to. She put Harry down in his crib, the stuffed bear along side of him. “Try and sleep, alright, Harry? Ignore your idiot father making a bunch of noise, yeah?” She asked, leaning down to kiss Harry goodnight.

Just before she got to press her lips against his forehead, Lily heard the cry and shot straight up in an instant.

“ _Lily!”_ There was no mistaking the tone of the scream. James wasn’t causing a ruckus, this was much more serious than that. The hair on her arms and nape of her neck stood straight, sensing the immediate threat. The house felt instantly colder, and within a second all the lights went out. In the pocket of her sleeping trousers, Lily kept her wand, and within a second she had it in her hand. “Shh, Harry, alright? Mummy will be back soon!” Her heart hurt as she cast the silencing charm on her son, followed by a disillusionment one to hopefully hide him from the eyes of the danger in her home.

 _“Lily, go!”_ She heard James call for her to flee, to take their son and go past the wards (why weren’t they working!?), and disaparate as far as she possibly could.

Like hell she would.

“James!” She screamed back, shutting the door to Harry’s nursery, debating for half a second on whether to put a spell on the door to keep it locked. She was quite skilled at them, but the fear of someone being unable to get in to her son should something happen to both her and James had her simply praying to Merlin that they would all be okay.

So Lily ran, grabbing onto the bannister and using it to turn quickly down the stairs. The carpet floor and her bare feet gave her good traction, and she was young and panicked, nearly jumping down the stairs as she rushed to find her husband. Though her footing wasn’t nearly as graceful as her doe patronus may have led people to believe, and with a crash she missed her landing and fell to the ground, wand clattering feet away. But it didn’t matter, all that did was finding James.

Using a small table, Lily pulled herself up and ignored the pain in her ankles from the fall. Anything was repairable with magic except life itself, and she hadn’t a care in the world the damage that could be done to her body so long as her family was safe.

With her hands on the wooden table, her eyes came to the picture on top of it. One of her, James, and their friends with Harry. Only a day old, surrounded with love. She wasn’t going to give that up so easily, and it clicked in her head something that she had stored in this very drawer over a year ago. Panicked, Lily yanked the drawer open. “James!” She screamed again, flinging papers and cards and silly trinkets out of the drawer until her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of a muggle weapon.

It was as if there was a wand in her hand, and the confidence of such returned and she pushed herself away and ran to the living room. Lily stopped on a dime, red hair falling around her face as she saw the scene. James hadn’t responded since he had told her to go, and she saw why. Long, grey fingers were wrapped around his throat, holding him from the ground as the air was squeezed out of him. “Put him down!” She screeched, fingers fumbling on the safety clip on the handgun. What on earth was a gun in response to the wand that was held against James’ temple. Her husband was clawing desperately at the Dark Lord’s wrists, needing air.

At Lily’s words the monster turned, eyes narrowed like slits and making Lily’s heart stop in her chest.

“Give me the boy, girl,” the Dark Lord said, his voice full of enjoyment. “And I’ll let your husband live. A life, for a life.” She watched as he pushed his wand harder against James’ temple. She could see his wand on the couch, left there from when they’d been sitting as a family.

“A life for a life,” Lily agreed, voice shakey. James’ eyes widened, but unable to speak. Surely he didn’t think…

No, he had to think better of her! “A smart girl,” Voldemort cooed, almost affectionate, and loosened his grip on James’ neck enough for him to cry out. The sound of Voldemort’s voice made her sick.

“Yeah, a smart girl,” she inhaled, taking a deep breath and lifting her hands up. She’d never fired a gun before, hadn’t any idea of the kickback or the power of it. She’d simply stolen it from a muggle police officer with an accio charm, something coming over her before they’d moved to Godric Hallow, as if she had known it could come in handy.

But there wasn’t time to think about it, how to properly hold it or work it. She’d seen some in muggle movies and television, and knew only to point and pull the trigger. So she pointed the handgun, and pulled the trigger. It threw her arms back, almost like it was going to rip them out of their sockets, and she cried out in discomfort. The crack was unlike any aparation sound, and glass shattered immediately after.

Everything happened so quickly. James was on the floor, scrambling for his wand on the sofa while Voldemort’s hands held the wound at his stomach. Confused, no doubt, and Lily took her opening and aimed for his head. Could she kill a man? There wasn’t much choice or thought, when it came to her family or the monster who was responsible for the death of friends and loved ones and strangers alike.

So she pulled the trigger again. And again, and again, and again, eyes closed and hoping James would have sense to stay out of the way. Lily kept pulling the trigger until there was nothing more than hollow clicks and laboured breathing.

Slowly Lily opened her eyes, gun falling to the ground as she saw both her husband the Dark Lord on the floor. There was blood, covering the floor and filling the house with the smell of it. It made her sick, and Lily doubled over before emptying the contents of her stomach onto the floor, heaving and heaving until there was no more to come up.

“Lilypad..?” James asked, and the sound of his voice had Lily falling to her knees in relief. She crawled over to him, and not caring about the mess on the floor. It could be cleaned. “James?! Oh Merlin, James…” She said, tears filling her eyes and pulling him against her.

“You okay?” He asked, and she buried her head into the nape of her neck. “It’s alright, love, it’s alright now.” The young man rubbed at her back for a few minutes before picking her up on shakey legs. He placed her on the sofa, pulling a throw around her shoulders. She could see dark bruises forming on his neck already, could hear the hoarsness from it in his words. “Stay here, I’ll get Harry…” He left her his wand, using his own hand to wrap her fingers around it before kissing her forehead.

He left quickly, wanting to check the welfare of their silenced son. Lily didn’t like the idea of being alone now, and hoped he’d return quickly. So she could calm with her family before packing their things and leave, to tell Dumbledore. This place wasn’t safe now, since someone, Peter it must have been, had told the Dark Lord where they were.

“James, get Harry some clothes!” She called out, looking at her shaking hands. She was managing her breathing now, and was almost some sort of calm when she heard another crack. Her heart stopped, and Lily was on her feet in a second with James’ wand in hand, pointed in the direction of the sound. “Severus!” She cried when she saw the unforgettable figure in her living room.

She wasted no moment stalking over to him, blanket falling from her shoulders and wand at his throat. “Get out of my home!” She screeched, as Severus’ hands went to her shoulders. The hand holding James’ wand curled tighter, into a fight fist, before it went flying to his nose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James calls for Sirius, and finds out just who betrayed his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was meant to be a lot less serious than it was. I wanted Lily to just come out of know where and pop a cap off in Voldemort’s ass and be like bye Felicia and give him a couple of stomps to the head. 
> 
> As is the way of many writers, my fingers didn’t go that route. 
> 
> To those of you who haven’t read any of the other horrible unfinished works of mine, just know I don’t plan stories out at all and I have no idea what I’m doing. If there’s continuity errors, that’s why.

_Chapter Two -_

_**October 31st, 1981** _

”Lily?” James asks, coming down the stairs, Harry audibly mumbling nonsense like he was scolding his father for being left alone. The silencing charm was easy enough to remove, the disillusionment one a little more difficult. Lily was excellent at charms, even in a moment of panic. But Harry didn’t seem to happy to be the subject of it, and now that he was in the company of one of his parents. “I know, kiddo, but mummy just wanted to make sure you were safe.” His son’s little brows squished up on his face, as if he was begrudgingly agreeing with James, and said no more. He held the bear Marlene had given him ages ago, and it appeared every now and then in his crib. Moments of mourning from Lily, no doubt.  

As they got down the stairs, James saw another robed figure in his living room. Lily stood, wand in hand and pointing it towards them. Four years past and James could still tell the greasy git from a mile away. He was holding his nose, bent over, Lily staring him down and completely in control of the situation. Pride went through him, and a grin cane upon his face. He adjusted Harry, giving his son a better view of his mother being absolutely brilliant. “Look, Harry, mummy’s fantastic, isn’t she?” James spent a lot of his time complimenting the woman he married, and Harry seemed to understand every time, always nodding and babbling in agreement. “Mumma, ya!” He tossed the bear to the ground, and James bent at the knees to pick it up while speaking. “Apologies for language, Lils, but what is this piece of shite doing in our house? It’s bad enough we’ve got one slimey bastard on our floor, I don’t want to clean up two. It’s not good for a baby to see his parents have to off two killers, even if it’s for the good of the world.” 

“We’re not killing Severus,” Lily snorted, her green eyes glinting even in the dim lights. They were distracting, cutting James’ thoughts off entirely as he admired his wife. Truly a magnificent creature, and to this day, especially on this day, James was stunned at how he hadn’t managed to get her to love him as he had always had. He looked away from her, to the robed man in his living room. Snape was clutching his nose, bent slightly at the torso as he mumbled spells to staunch the flow of blood, and whisking it away from his hand. “Surprising as it may be, Potter,” he spat, voice even more nasally then it usually was. “I came to warn you, both of you...” James clutched his son, both their eyes narrowing as if Harry knew this man wasn’t to be trusted.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Not to come kick my body, should your master have been successful in offing our son,” James voice was raising with every word, the feeling of his magic buzzing through every nerve as the anger grew. The situation was terrifying, the realization of it setting in. Tonight, James had almost lost everything he held dear to him. His parents were gone, and should he have lost his wife or son (nevermind himself), James didn’t even want to think of it. Though he knew the possibility of such, when they’d gone into hiding, it wasn’t until this night that it became reality.

James would worship every God in every religion that Lily had, hopefully, ended this reign of fear.

“We should floo Dumbledore,” Lily said, cutting through the tense silence that had built since James had last spoke. Which, as far as he was concerned, only solidified the truth behind what he’d said. Snape didn’t respond, or try to argue the point, and James considered that an admission of guilt to what he’d been accused of. It was no secret that Snape was one of Voldemort’s loyal followers. “He can figure out what needs to be done with him,” she continued, and ropes spun from James’ wand as she said “Incarcerous.” They wrapped around Snape, tightening his arms against his body, weaving around his legs and forcing him into kneeling on the floor.

What a sight this would be, if Sirius were here to see it. The Dark Lord, dead on the ground and gushing thick, glossy blood. It looked darker than most humans, which made James question just how much humanity was left in him. Or if he’d ever been born with it in the first place. A product of a love potion, Dumbledore had said. Nothing pure could come from it, unlike that of genuine love. Such things produced gifts, like little Harry.

“Are we sure he’s dead?” James asked, refusing to go over and inspect the body to check. He had a baby in his arms, and frankly, he was never one for blood. Especially when it smelled as fowl as Voldemort’s did. They’d have to burn their cottage to the ground to rid it of the stench. Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Snape open his mouth to speak. He was about to tell the man to keep his bloody gob shut, until Lily beat him with a silent silencing charm. “I’m not really to keen on checking,” she said, and crossed the room to the fireplace, reaching for the jar of ashes on the mantle. There were the slightest licks of flames from earlier in the night, and they ignited into vibrant green plumage that Lily stuck her head into. James couldn’t hear much of her muffled conversation, but he went to pry his wand gently from her fingers.

James could sense her reluctance to give it up, and when they touched hands he could feel her magic burning through her skin, his own wand trembling from the strength of it. Without a doubt, she was one of the most powerful magical beings James had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Let alone marrying. His own magic burned with the power of hers, their wedding ceremony bonding their magical power. Connecting their hands, James called for Lily’s wand, no need for words or a flick of the wand with their combined magic. It came shooting from its place, and James grabbed it from the air and wrapped Lily’s fingers around it. He could feel both her body and her magic relax when it was in her hands, despite not being able to see. She knew the wand was hers, and it calmed her instantly.

Before standing straight, James let go of her hand and rubbed gently at her back, Harry doing the same and lightly batting her and mumbling “mum, mummy, mum.”

“She’s speaking to Albus, little man,” James explained, pressing a myriad of kisses all over Harry’s head and face. He laughed, and the energy of the room relaxed even further as both parents found comfort in the sound. One that meant, for the immediate moment, their son was okay.

“Why don’t we give Uncle Padfoot a call on the mirror, hmm?”

—

Within the hour, the small cottage was bursting with magic from the dozen or so people in their home. The Minister of Magic, Albus Dumblefore, and various members of the Order had come along to offer their comfort and company. A group of Aurors had made quick work of the scene, ushering everyone out whilst they confirmed the body and questioned Snape through his bonds. Vials of Veritaserum were poured down his throat, and the truth had come spilling. Names of death eaters, none of which were any surprise to the members of the Order, or the Aurors themselves.

It was crowded, stifling, and the reality sunk in deeper and deeper as the dark sky started to turn brighter as the day grew nearer. So James had left, the second he heard the sound of the motorbike roaring from the sky. He kissed his wife on the temple, followed by their son, and excused himself from the kitchen table where they were being questioned.

As he left out the kitchen door, the sound of the bike turned off and he wasted no moment to open the garden gate, instead hopping over it with a fluid motion. James hardly granted Sirius time to get off the motorbike before his arms were around his friend, gripped in a tight embrace. The scent of the worn leather and oil was missed, in the months he’d not seen Sirius. “Hey, Prongs,” Sirius mumbled, and James felt his friend’s face in his messy hair, felt the inhale through Sirius’ chest. Nevermind the damn looks he could fee through the windows from the team of Aurors. Anyone who knew them in school had known they were closer than brothers, and the rumours of lovers hadn’t ever bothered either of them. Both knew the truth, and so did anyone who mattered.

“I fucking missed you, you piece of shite,” James mumbled, stepping back and leaving his hands on Sirius’ shoulders. They shook with his laughter. “Don’t be queer, now, Prongs, others will talk.”

“Let them think I’ve got a scruffy mistress, then, they’re stupid if they think I’d sleep around on the woman that killed the bloody Dark Lord. With a muggle wand, Sirius. Of all things!” Nevermind her the most powerful witch, she hadn’t even used her magic to end the sad excuse of a man. The painful, relieved laugh was short, but sweet nonetheless.

“Where’s Moony?” James asked, letting his hands fall, looking around as if he’d materialize right then and there. “Wormtail..?” He’d called for them both, needing them now more than he had in all their years together. Sirius shrugged, brows furrowing.

“Called Remus, couldn’t get ahold of him. As for Pete,” Sirius bit into his cheek, James could see.

“James.”

“They tortured it out of him, you know that, Sirius. We know that,” James insisted, refusing to think of any other possibility. Damn Sirius to hell, though he was destined to go there, should those types of Muggles have any say about any of them. James wasn’t entertaining the notion.

Sirius, however, seemed to refuse James’ thoughts. “You know, as well as I do, James. That doesn’t work. Not for the Secret Keeper.”

Yes, James knew. Sirius had been their initial choice, he’d sooner die than betray them in such a way. Remus, as well. Peter, there wasn’t a way he could do that to them. Peter adored them, as they did him. And James knew there was love there, and surely he wouldn’t have turned on Lily, who loved him almost if not as much as James did. They were family.

“No,” James shook his head, teeth tightening in a clench of his jaw.

“James,”

“Sirius, he couldn’t have-,”

“Pete’s dead, James.”

—

Around the kitchen table, James sat in silence as Sirius ran the story through the Aurors, Lily filling in any blanks he may have had. About how he was to be their Secret Keeper, and how Sirius had insisted they switch last minute with Peter. How no one but Sirius, Lily and James, along with their friend Peter, knew of the switch.

How Sirius, when he’d received the message from James via their mirror, had not come directly to Godric’s Hallow, but instead to the safe home, a small flat in London, where Peter had been staying. He’d barged in, uncaring of who heard or saw. The fight they’d had, where Sirius had his rodent form between the jaws of the great black dog he could become.

They were to register as Animagi, the Auror had interrupted, earning a glare from the three young adults and baby from across the table. As if it were the time.

He’d escaped, down the stairs and out the door as someone entered the apartment from the street. They’d turned, from their animal forms, amongst a crowd of club goers. Thankfully Peter’s trail had been easy to follow, parting way for the short boy as he ran. Until they had come to a dead end, a crowd of people, drunk off their rockers. They’d chanted for a fight, and when Sirius had reached into his robes to pull out his wand, a series of loud cracks and bangs followed by screams was heard. Panic ensued, and Sirius was surrounded by people running for an escape. There was nothing left from where Peter had, but the bodies of muggles. And a finger, which Sirius pulled from the pocket of his denim and slammed on the tabletop.

“This is all that’s left of him. I’ve used a few spells, it’s him. He knew he was trapped, the bloody rat. Knew I was there to kill him myself, so he took himself and some muggles with him.” James’ nose and lips trembled in grief and disgust at the finger on his table, another thing that would need to be burned.

“Thank you, Mr. Black, for your testimony,” the Auror that had been questioning them said. A quill was writing down their words, charmed by magic, while the Auror took personal notes and wrote out any of his own thoughts on a separate pad of parchment. “We’ll have to review it, of course. Bring you into the ministry, as well as the muggle branch that works with us. Three muggle casualties, but hopefully the last should this truly be the end of He Who Must Not Be Named.”

James could tell it was hard for anyone to believe he was truly gone. And perhaps he wasn’t, but for the time being, they were safe. Aurors no doubt had been sent immediately after Snape’s admissions, to take down as many Death Eaters as they could.

—

“We can’t stay here,” James said, the house eerily quiet now that midday had come and the house had cleared out. Already, the Daily Prophet had announced the death of Lord Voldemort, though the details of his demise were left out. For their own privacy, and to not instil a fear of muggle things if they were to know such an object was what caused one of the most dangerous wizards to fall.

“It smells of death, and we can’t stay where his blood soaked into our floorboards. Eat of the table where... where the last of his remains touched, the treasonous bastard,” James spat. He couldn’t believe Peter had done such a thing, but what else could be the possibility? Sirius had known on an instant, and who could he trust more than Sirius himself.

Lily hummed, nodding in agreement. She was without Harry, now. He had finally gone down to sleep, curled up among pillows on their bed while Sirius curled up around him, in canine form. It had always calmed Harry when he was a newborn, and worked like a charm now. “We could go to your parents,” she suggested, careful and slow. But the pain still pulled at his heart.

James hadn’t even had the strength to return home and clear the Potter home of their belongings, let alone live there. “It needs to be done, James. You know that, and their portraits need to be hung. Not just sitting under a cloth, gaining dust.” The guilt hit him hard, thinking of their portraits in a constant state of sleep without someone or each other to engage with. Lily had offered, over the two years since they’d passed, to go and do it for him. James had rejected it every time, knowing he’d have to do that himself one day.

“Sirius will come, you know that, and surely Remus will. Once we get ahold of him...” No doubt with a pack, somewhere deep in the woods. Alive, since James refused to think another of his closest friends were gone.

The Potter home had been Sirius’ as well, until they’d passed. He’d taken up residence across Europe, working for the Order in the field while the Potters and Longbottoms were put into hiding. Lily was right in thinking he’d go back, James knew that.

“You have to grieve them, eventually, James...” Lily came up behind him, her arms wrapping around his middle and she pressed her face between his shoulders. “We’ll be there, love,” she mumbled against his tee shirt. “We’ll make it your home again.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trials begin, and Lily sympathizes with another young mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend inspired me to write some Harry Potter, so here we are.

_Chapter 3 -_

**_November 4th_**

It didn’t take longer than a couple days, before the Death Eaters were brought into custody. One by one, Aurors came into the Ministry, Death Eaters bound at their backs and charmed into silence and submission. It had been a contest, of sorts, of who could bring in the worst. There had been rumours swirling around the Auror department. Points. Whoever could bring in the worst would be granted the most. Many Aurors, Gryffindors when they were in school, found great sport in this competition. There had been personal rivalries, and became a legal revenge sport. 

But it worked, and it wasn’t even the end of a full week before two thirds of the long lost of Death Eaters were detained in the depths of the Ministry.

LeStrange, Rabastan.

Rosier, Evan.

Travers, Samuel.

Carrow, Amycus.

McNair, Walden.

The list grew, daily. 

One by one, they came dragged in. In exchange for the names, Severus Snape’s trial was put on hold. His fate wasn’t to be decided on until most, if not all, the Death Eaters were brought into custody of the Ministry. The more information he was able to give, the better a plea deal Albus Dumbledore would be able to work out for the young man. 

Over the course of the days that followed the demise of the Dark Lord, James and Lily Potter had found themselves busier than they had been while doing even the hardest work for the order. Harder than parenthood was, even. But Harry was a good tempered boy, a happy baby. 

Daily, sometimes multiple times a day, James and Lily, as well as Sirius, were brought into the Ministry. They gave their information, secrets that had been kept from the Ministry. It had been good that they had, as Severus Snape listed off many spies within it. Dumbledore had suspected as much, of course. It was why they had started the Order in the first place. 

“He’s so miserable, today,” Lily said, petting back Harry’s hair as she sat him on her lap. They were in the cafeteria in the Ministry, an hour break for lunch whilst the next trial was being prepared for. They had finished their testimonies against Bellatrix LeStrange, née Black. James and Lily hadn’t been necessary, but the Ministry was adamant that Sirius speak. And Sirius had jumped at the opportunity, but it had been obvious from the get go that nothing was needed to imprison the nasty woman. Lily sat watching from the stands as she declared her love, and admitted to her crimes with pride. Her hair was wild, and eyes even wilder, as she spoke. Her power and energy radiated from her, contained by the charms and wards put around her to prevent a magical outburst that could harm anyone. 

All the same, Sirius had enjoyed his tales of their youth. How she had always had a fascination and talent with hurting others, especially those who she felt weren’t worthy of their blood status. How she’d spent family gatherings at their townhomes, tormenting and torturing Sirius for his friends. Swiping at him with her claws, filed long and sharp. Pulling hair, pushing down the stairs of Grimmauld Place. Others filed in after Sirius. From the mundane, simple name calling from other students. To the more sinister. The scars on the bodies of Muggle-Born peers, the family of half blood and muggle blooded witches and wizards, whose lives she’d taken. 

All the while, Bellatrix had laughed. Lily couldn’t forget the sound, no matter how hard she tried. 

Her commentary...

“How pretty she screamed!” Bellatrix had cried with glee, head tossed back and yellow teeth clacking against each other while she giggled. Lily had felt sick, her stomach curling into knots. “Pretty little Marley! Sammy did wonderful work with her. Poor li’l titch!” Bellatrix LeStrange had looked through the crowd, stopping when she caught the sight of Lily’s red hair. As if the death eater woman was speaking only to her. “Wouldn’t give up anything, not even to save her baby. What a stupid bitch,” Bellatrix spat, her voice no longer full of maniacal laughter.

Lily’s nails pulled away from her fingers, as she gripped the wooden bench back in front of her. The rage and grief, her magic coursing through her veins in desperation. Lily hadn’t killed with it before, but she could feel in her blood that should there have been no wards, Lily could have avenged her friend, Marlene’s family, right then and there...

“Lily..?” James asked, snapping Lily from her thoughts. “You alright, love?”

A silly question, and James knew it was. Because they weren’t okay. None of this was okay, but this was the life they had, and these trials and recounting of the last few years were the steps forward into some semblance of alright.

“Yeah..,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to Lily’s temple. “My poor Marly...” Her voice cracked, and the tears welled in her eyes. She shook it away, not wanting to cause a scene in the cafeteria. “Whose next..?”

Anything to detract from her. The despicable Bellatrix LeStrange. Thankfully her verdict had been to rot in Azkaban.

“Malfoy,” Sirius spoke without missing a beat. Lily could hear James’ eye roll.

“He’ll get nothing, you watch.” There was anger in her husbands voice. Not vicious, but exasperated annoyance. He knew there’d be little punishment for Lucius Malfoy, a man who even Severus had admitted under Veritaserum would be hard to find crime with. Severus’ word was enough to bring him on trial, the man being unable to lie. He had known nothing else except that Lucius Malfoy had worked with the Dark Lord. There was no recount of his crimes, no paper trail for funding. On the books, he looked simply like a sympathizer, and there wasn’t space in Azkaban for all the members of the sacred twenty eight to stay, if they were arresting those who were only a sympathizer. 

Everyone knew, of course, that Lucius Malfoy had worked closely with Voldemort. Even since they’d been in school, they had heard whispers all the way from the Slytherin Dungeons up in the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Speak of the devil,” Sirius spoke, sitting up in his seat and causing James and Lily to follow his eyes and turn their heads. “And his mistress appears.”

Sure enough, Lily spotted her. Narcissa Black, though she supposed she was a Malfoy now. Lily had read all about their wedding in the Daily Prophet. A magnificent affair, apparently. “She’s your cousin,” Lily said, her voice sympathetic. Perhaps it was a mothering thing, the sympathy. Or perhaps because Severus hadn’t said a lick about her in all of his times under the serum. She looked ragged, though beautiful all the same. She’d lost the radiance Lily had seen in photos of the paper when they’d announced her pregnancy. Lily had been pregnant herself, scanning the family columns when she’d seen her. But what over a year would do to a woman. “So was Bellatrix,” Sirius snorted, and Lily’s eyes narrowed in a small glare.

“So is Andromeda,” she pointed out, “and you’ve only spoke highly of her. Why, I remember you even inviting her for our Christmas party a few years back. I wouldn’t discount all your family just because some are cruel...”

Lily thought to her sister, and how nasty she could be. But Lily loved Petunia dearly, even if she was certain her sister didn’t feel the same. “Just because someone made choices you don’t approve of, doesn’t mean they’re bad people.” 

“Yes, Lily, it does.” James argued, scooting his chair over slightly, closer to Sirius. The Black boy did the same, and Lily simply sighed. There was rarely a time they didn’t agree. “She’s a child,” the redhead argued. “And she’s got a baby...” the little blonde boy was Harry’s age, and looking just as miserable.

“So are we! So do we, Lils. And we didn’t marry Voldemort’s damn arse bandit!”

“First of all, Sirius Black, Harry isn’t our baby. Harry is mine and James’ baby. Secondly, have a little sympathy. As far as we know, she’s nothing more than a girl caught up in more than she meant to. I don’t see you damning Regulus, do I?” Lily’s own voice raised, and both boys across from her reacted as if she’d smacked them both across the face. 

Immediately she regretted it. “Lilypad,” James spoke softly, a hand going to Sirius’ shoulder. She was to be reprimanded, by her husband, and before she could be, Lily toned her temper down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. We... I... I know Regulus was a good boy.” Few people had believed Sirius this week, while he defended his younger brother as everyone demonized the boy. They knew the truth.

“We have to assume the best. Give our kindness where we can, because right now the world needs it. Even to people we think might not deserve it.” Lily could see her boys didn’t give a damn, James was rubbing circles on Sirius’ shoulders as he pulled the locket from his pocket. “He was a stupid boy,” he mumbled, tightening his grip on it. He had refused to part with it, knowing full well his brothers final words would be taken into the control of the Ministry.

“So is she...” Lily said, voice soft. She looked away from them, and gathered her son in her arms before pushing away from the cafeteria table.

—

“Mrs. Malfoy..?” Lily asked, standing across from the blonde girl at the table she had chosen. Alone, in the corner. No food or drink in front of her. She was awaiting her husband’s trial, surely. Instead she cradled her son against her breast, fingers playing with the brilliant blonde hair on his head. “I don’t know if you remember me,” she began, and paused when Narcissa looked up at her. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” 

She could tell the question took the youngest Black daughter by surprise, and from what Lily remembered of her from school, she’d been nothing but proper. They’d been prefects together and Lily remembered her cool politeness rather vividly. How she never said no, never excused someone, and was rarely rude. But her meekness had not been weekends by any sense, since Lily had seen her command her army of pure blooded witches with nothing more than a look and soft comment. 

Narcissa Black had never the need to say no, since few people had ever, as far as Lily knew and figured, had ever asked her of anything where she’d need to. 

In this moment, Lily wondered if she were to be one of the first to get a rejection from the blonde girl. “You may,” she nodded, voice careful and polite. “Do you remember me?” Lily asked next, as she took a seat and placed a fidgeting Harry on the table in front of her. “Yes,” Narcissa nodded again, her eyes fixated on Lily’s son. Harry was quick to roll, happy to crap freely on the table. There was rarely another person his size before, and had become immediately curious of Narcissa’s own child. 

“What’s your son’s name?” She asked, and it took Lily by surprise. Narcissa hadn’t been known for an inquisitive nature, especially to be curious about a half blooded baby. Lily felt strangely flattered, and found quickly that she had longed for another person to ask of her son. They’d been in hiding so long, and even out of it people kept their distance. 

They feared the muggle born who destroyed the Dark Lord. “Harry,” she smiled, pulling her wand from her pocket as she cast a small barrier around the table to keep Harry from falling off. He was able to reach through it, should he want to stretch to come back into his mother’s arms. “Yours? He’s a handsome babe, isn’t he?”

All the tiredness on her face seemed to disappear as Narcissa looked back down at her boy. The praise for the small person she made. Lily understood it. “Draco,” Narcissa spoke softly, pushing blonde hair away from his face. A small smile came across her lips. “Thank you.” She was a woman of few words, but Lily had never known this girl to be talkative. Draco, however, began to babble nonsense. The moment his eyes, a beautiful shade of grey that matched his mothers, caught sight of another child his age, he squirmed. Desperate to be free of his mother’s embrace and be near something like himself. 

“Harry won’t hurt him, if you’d like to put him on the table. Harry’s never met another child, until now.” Lily explained, and Narcissa was obviously reluctant. But Draco wasn’t able to sit still, and Narcissa wasn’t to fight with her boy. Afraid to cause a scene and bring more attention to herself than she’d already gotten. As if he’d break, Narcissa placed the boy on the table. Within a second, Harry zoomed over to him, sitting on his bottom. Draco mirrored, and for a few long moments they stared at each other. 

“Harry, that’s Draco.” Lily said, and the sound of his mother’s voice made Harry turn his head. The movement inspired the blonde boy, and he leaned forward and lifted a hand to Harry’s hair and buried his fist in it. 

“Draco, stop,” Narcissa hissed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment and she moved quickly to free his hand from Harry’s dark locks before he could yank. “What have we said about pulling hair?” She asked, and Draco seemed only confused.“My apologies,” Narcissa said, her voice sounding sincere enough that Lily couldn’t help but believe her.

Not to mention, Harry wasn’t phased, simply confused as well. His hair was wild, and Lily wondered if he knew it. “Harry went through that phase. Now he’s into... Harry!”

As if on cue, Harry slumped forward and took hold of the young Malfoy’s foot before shoving it into his mouth and taking a bite. In an instant, Draco wailed, arms flailing and Harry pulled away, the noise starling him and sending him scooting back across the table to his mother. But Draco didn’t stop, instead falling to his back and throwing his arms and legs around in a tantrum, as if Harry had sunk his teeth through flesh and scraped against his bone. Such a dramatic scene, Lily had to chuckle as she scooped Harry into her arms. “I’m so sorry,” she tried to say, but her laughter prevented it from coming out properly.

“Darling, stop this nonsense,” Narcissa was trying to reason with the boy. But there was no reasoning with toddlers, and Draco seemed to be the champion of dramatic tantrums and crocodile tears. “Honestly...” She could see the tiredness creep back into Narcissa’s body, and wondered how often this happened. “The other children you associate with are terrible examples. Your father would be disappointed to see you kick up such a fuss,” Narcissa scolded, mostly to herself. Draco wasn’t hardly listening, but he quieted down when Narcissa reached for him and held the boy close against her.

Total mommas boy, that much was for certain. Whatever fit he had just thrown wasn’t pain, but simply because he knew how to make her come running. Smart little thing...

“Mrs. Malfoy..?” Lily began to ask, and the blonde looked up at her. “If you would like, and I understand if you’ll say no, but Harry here could use with some socializing himself. Maybe... maybe, in the future, we could arrange a play date, of sorts.”

Narcissa visibly paled, which was surprising given her natural colour was lighter than that of even Lily’s. She recovered quickly, however. “I suppose...” she started slowly. “Regardless of the outcome of the new few weeks, it would do my Draco well to be with a broader circle of children... perhaps could arrange a meeting one afternoon. I’ve recently taken lodging in my old family home, my cousin will have the address if you wish to send an owl.”

Lily wanted to pry, acquire more information on why Narcissa had left the Malfoy Manner. It was rude to do so, especially on the day of her husbands trial. This girl had her life flipped around in a short time, and it was hardly Lily’s place to gather information for gossip. So she simply nodded, smiling. “I will, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Narcissa, if you please.”

Lily’s smile grew, and she pushed away from the table, son in arms. “Narcissa. Call me Lily,” she extended a hand out, the other trying to keep a grip on her child. Narcissa took it, gentle and sweet. Her hand was cold, and trembled slightly as they shook. Instinctively, Lily gave a soft squeeze and lingered, holding her hand like she would a friend or a sister.

Not days ago, Lily had almost lost her husband. There were even the faintest of bruises around his throat still. In hours, Narcissa Malfoy could lose hers. For all the silent crimes he had committed, Lily wasn’t going to turn her nose down at a young girl of no more than nineteen, who may just have part of her family taken from her. “Narcissa?” She whispered, still holding her fingers in her own. The blonde girl looked up, eyes bright with then youthful hope that she saw in many of her own loved ones. “Good luck, to your family.”

“Thank you. I’m certain I will be needing it.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had initially meant to be both trials and part of some moving in to the Potter home, but it became a little longer than I had anticipated. So next chapter will once again be from james’ perspective, and we’ll delve more into that. 
> 
> Anyway, Lily and Narcissa being friends is something I long for. If I accidentally make it gay I’m sorry except I’m not going to be at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.


End file.
